They grin, and seem perfectly happy to stay put here for the forseeable future. They occasionally throw things into the anomaly, mostly just because it gives such pretty results (although no more grenades are thrown).

Most of them take naps at some point, the others keeping any conversation quiet enough to not disturb each other.

Except Wrath. Wrath is, when not talking to someone, staring into the anomaly with almost laser-sharp focus.

The anomaly continues behaving exactly as it has been for ten hours.

Then a tall man with giant grey owl's wings descends from the sky. He lands next to the anomaly, looks at the Sins, and raises his eyebrows. (His feathers trail through the edge of the pillar of fire without seeming to be damaged at all.)

The Sins are responding before he's even landed. Wrath and Avarice roll to their feet, Wrath's shotgun levelled directly at the man's chest, the two of them between the man and the others.

Pride, Lust and Gluttony start to their feet, Pride shaking out one of her whips, Lust and Gluttony drawing their blades.

Envy has snared Wrath's bandoleer and remaining grenades, and is fingering one of them as he watches the man.

Sloth hasn't got to his feet, but he's lifted his rifle, and it's aiming right at the man's head.

None of them say anything.

He looks at the various weaponry with the expression of someone who cannot fathom what they might be hoping to accomplish with it, pauses consideringly, and then does a dismissive little headshake, very much as though he first wondered if he should do something about all those weapons and then decided it couldn't possibly be worth the trouble.

Then he asks them something in the indecipherable local language.

Wrath thumbs the safety catch off her shotgun. "Yeah we can't understand a word you're saying, jackass."

Pride looks like she might want to facepalm, but is a little more focused on the potential threat.

He seems mildly intrigued by the language barrier, and spends another moment thinking about it before he - does something. Curling ribbons of sunlight spread out from his hand, shimmering half-visibly like weak holograms. He extends them toward the Sins.

Wrath steps forward, finger tightening on the trigger but she doesn't shoot yet.

Avarice and the others shift backwards, more on edge and wary.

Sloth's gaze flickers to Wrath, waiting for a cue. (This doesn't seem rapid enough to be an attack.)

The light-ribbons connect, giving each of them a faint glowing aura that lasts for half a second or so before ribbons and auras all fade away.

"As I was saying," he says - and he's still speaking the local language, but now they understand every word as fluently as if it were their own - "what are you all doing having a tea party next to a ten-hour self-dedication? It seemed like a weird way to meet me, but I'm starting to suspect you don't have any idea who I am."

"The view was good," Wrath drawls. "And it was doing interesting things. Where else would you have a tea party? And, well, I don't really follow the ins and outs of who everyone in the galaxy is. Pride?"

"Only when I'm really bored," Pride responds, rotating her wrist to make the whip she's holding twist in lazy circles and figures of eights.

"...I'm the Emperor," he says. "Usually I don't need to specify 'of what', because there's only the one world to be Emperor of, but you are apparently from somewhere else. That's interesting."

"Okay, I know the only person claiming Emperorhood, Wrath," Pride says. "And this guy? Not her. Cuter and maler."

"Which. Does suggest we are from somewhere very else. And begs the question: Emperor of what?!"

"...the world, like I said."

"Yes, because that's such a helpful answer, you imperial-"

"Wrath," Pride snaps. "All things considered. Please actually pretend you have a self-preservation instinct."

She turns to the man. "Can you give us any more information about your world?"

"Probably. What kind of information are you looking for?"

"I dunno, maybe the existence of the fucking level nine thousand grandma on your fucking coast?" Avarice points in the general direction of the coast as he takes half a step forward to put himself back on a level with Wrath.

...he laughs. "I don't know who you're talking about, but I think your problem might be that you don't know what magic is."

"What? Like something out of a fantasy novel?"

"Well, any sufficiently advanced technology and all that crap."